Heat
by suckerforasmile
Summary: . "Las Vegas should be known everywhere as Heat City, not Sin City." Pointless, short - and pretty clean! - slash, NickxGreg. Oneshot. Um, yeah.


_Found this on my hard drive. (: It's a little old because I was uncertain, but I've been editing and adding to it for a good six months now and I actually kind of like it, haha.. It's pointless, but that's not always a bad thing. Also, DisneyWorld vs. DisneyLand was a HUGE conflict throughout the entire time I was writing and editing this. I settled on DisneyWorld, but I've never been to either so I have no idea what that means :D  
_

Greg struggles in the bed sheets, trying to be quiet as he kicks them off his legs. Las Vegas should be known everywhere as Heat City, not Sin City, he thinks grumpily, as Nick sleeps gracefully beside him. It's not fair that Nick's sleeping peacefully when Greg isn't even able to find a happy medium.

For a brief moment, he thinks about waking Nick up. His hand hovers over Nick's shoulder, and just as he's about to shake him awake, he remembers that tomorrow Nick has to work and Greg gets to stay at home, in Nick's horrible, overly warm apartment. Greg can't do that to him, not when he's been pulling doubles and triples for the last two weeks.

He drops his hand back on the bedding and sighs softly, glaring at the wall. A few minutes pass as Greg tries to decide if he wants to peel himself from the flannel sheets – what was Nick _thinking?_ – to turn the air conditioner on and hear it from Nick tomorrow when he leaves for work, or if he'd rather just suffer through the heat for the next couple hours.

Staring at the ceiling, Greg yawns and kicks the sheets further away from him. They're still sticky with sweat and God knows what else, and Greg makes a mental note to wash, no, throw them away and tell Nick they ripped in the wash. Maybe he'll buy some suitable sheets. Ones that won't have Greg up all night, and not in a good way. Or maybe Nick will be angry that Greg threw away the sheets in the first place. Perhaps it's best that Greg buys sheets of his own or brings the extra ones from his place.

"Greg," Nick says, his voice scratchy with sleep. "Why are you still awake?" Greg stays still and silent, hoping that Nick won't be able to catch him and wake himself up in order to make Greg more comfortable. Nick shouldn't have to cater to him, not _now_ at least, and Greg's not going to let him, if he can help it. "Come on, I already know you're not sleeping."

With a heavy sigh, Greg sits up in bed. "I can't sleep. Your sheets are sticky."

"I washed 'em last week, Greg, they're not _sticky_."

"Are too!" Greg flips on the light and presses his palm flat against the offending flannel, pulling his hand away after a moment, the fabric sticking. Having proven his point, Greg turns to Nick with a triumphant smile on his face.

Nick's holding his hand over his eyes, squinting. "Give a guy some warning with the light, will ya?" His eyes adjust to the bright light slowly and he blinks at Greg's hand, squinting at the sheet still clinging to it. Greg apologizes softly and Nick peels the sheets away from his boyfriend's hand. "There're other sheets in the hall closet if you want."

Feigning surprise, Greg raises his eyebrows and says, "You _own _other sheets? Then what the hell are we doing using the ones that only Eskimos use?"

"Just get the damn sheets."

"We live in Vegas, Nick. Not an igloo." Greg smiles as he sighs, and pokes him. "Not like you're going to get up for me to put them on, anyway."

Nick turns over and fluffs his pillow a little. "You're right; I'm probably not going to. Good call. Turn on the AC."

"If I do that, you're going to have my ass tomorrow."

Sigh escaping his lips, Nick says, "I _already have_ your ass. It's fine; do it, okay?"

Feeling a bit like a child who had just been told he'd be going to Disneyworld, Greg hops out of bed and turns the dial all the way to _Very Cool_. Nothing happens. He checks the plug-in, makes sure it's turned on, and kicks it a few times before he sighs. "Nick?"

"What, Greg?"

Greg sits down on the bed, defeated. His metaphorical trip to Disneyworld has just been cancelled. "It's broken." For a minute or two, Nick doesn't say anything, and Greg thinks he may have fallen back asleep.

Just as Greg's thinking about going to sleep in the bathtub, Nick sits up as well. He blinks at the AC a few times, watches as Greg readjusts the dials to show he's not lying, and sighs. Greg doesn't say a word when Nick stands up and disappears into the other room. When he returns, he's opening a sealed, plastic bad and fanning out the sheets, eyes half lidded.

"You've been holding out on me!" Greg exclaims as he holds a hand up to his mouth in mock shock.

Nick glares at him. "Just help me with the sheets so I can go back to sleep." Greg stands up and takes the comforter and sheets from hell off the bed before reaching across to grab the corners of the new, cool sheets from Nick's outstretched hand. Greg's almost a little too excited for them. He might actually be too excited to sleep.

"You know, these look like new sheets," Greg begins as he climbs back into bed, his partner doing the same. "Isn't there some sort of unspoken rule of breaking in new bedding when—"

Nick leans over him to shut off the light on the nightstand, pressing his lips to Greg's as he does so. "Goodnight, Greg."

A wide grin on his lips, Greg settles himself in and says, "'Night, Nicky."


End file.
